


Written Anew

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: RWBY
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cabin Fic, Couch Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: When Ozpin invited Qrow on vacation with him, he'd honestly expected someplace... less rundown.But whatever this cabin was, it obviously meant a lot to Oz.





	Written Anew

**Author's Note:**

> A Secret Santa gift for Wolfprintsinthesnow!!
> 
> Prompt: Snow, evening, together, respite

_Well this isn't very festive_ , Qrow thought and then immediately wanted to kick himself for being uncharitable. Shit, this was already a damn sight better than what he'd been planning. Anything beat getting shit-faced alone in his apartment because even the bars were closed during Solstice. 

 

The idea that any of them would do anything as normal as take a vacation had seemed ridiculous a week ago, but Ozpin, much to their collective surprise, had been insistent. Salem's forces were always on the move, but even they seemed to have slowed down when Vale's notorious storms started in full force, blanketing the entirety of city and school in an expanse of white. When Ozpin had called him, Glynda, and James into his office last Saturday, Qrow had prepared himself to make time for a trip into town to stock up on snow boots and a new coat. After all, their enigmatic leader couldn't let his best spy go idle just because there was some fucking annoying powder on the ground now. Boots, coat, and some of that new Atlas polish to protect his blade against the moisture.

 

Instead Ozpin had announced that they all had two weeks off. Barring some calamity, of course.

 

Two weeks though. Two goddamn _weeks_. Qrow had swayed a little in surprise, marveling at how Glynda's face had lit up and even Jimmy, ever the stoic, had broken out in a quick grin. They'd both been as hesitant as he was—what exactly did "off" mean to Ozpin?—but he'd reassured them that they  could truly go and do whatever they pleased. For fourteen days there would be no meetings, no missions, and of course the school semester had already finished. Provided that Salem didn't spring any surprises on them, they were entirely free. And freedom, it seemed, had never tasted so good. Qrow's two cohorts had wasted no time in... doing whatever the hell it was James and Glynda did in their free time. 

 

Qrow wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that.

 

"Will you be staying with Tai?" Ozpin had asked, right when Qrow was still off balance enough that any question made him want to clam up tight. He remembered taking a swing from his flask and shrugging. Mumbling something about 'family time' when Ozpin didn't back down—those brown eyes and polite smile boring into him like the teeth of a damn Beowolf. It was true enough. He wasn't related to any of them except for Yang... but of course blood ties meant little to a hunter. It was battle that forged family. 

 

But no. Qrow wouldn't spend the Solstice with Tai and the kids because any extended visit would bring his semblance down in full force. He knew it. Ozpin knew it, and that shit just wasn't going to fly. There would be a quick, surprise drop-in before the new semester started and gifts sent by one of Jimmy's pet planes. It had sufficed for years and Qrow saw no reason to change things up now.

 

Except that Ozpin's enigmatic smile had said otherwise.

 

"If you're free, perhaps you'd like to spend your vacation with me?"

 

Now, two days later, Qrow still wasn't sure why he’d said yes. 

 

Maybe it was the fact that out of all of them Ozpin was best equipped to handle his semblance. He was endlessly patient with the small things and, supposedly, didn't have much to fear from the big stuff. Nothing like hanging out with an immortal to give you some perspective on bad luck. Granted, Qrow had never seen his little trick before—and thank dust for that—but supposedly Ozpin was safe. Or as safe as anyone could ever be around him.

 

Maybe it was the way Ozpin had phrased it. After that initial question: "I would greatly enjoy the company." Oh, Qrow could spot manipulation a mile away; make the offer all about Ozpin so Qrow would feel like he was doing _him_ a favor, instead of the other way around. Didn't change how genuine Oz's look had been though, or the way he'd folded his hands tightly into his lap—as if nervous. They might have been the carefully cultivated moves of a man with thousands of years of practice under his belt. Or maybe not.

 

Maybe, Qrow was just fucking lonely and getting sick of it.

 

So sue him.

 

Still, when Ozpin had told him he'd be taking Qrow on a 'getaway,' this really wasn't what he'd had in mind. Prior to their arrival Qrow hadn't a damn clue where he'd be spending the next few nights, only that Ozpin had told him to dress warmly. So Qrow had bought his new coat, his boots and his polish after all. 

 

Now he gripped his scythe tight as Ozpin landed the airship with as much grace and mastery as he did everything else. 

 

It just made their surroundings all the more jarring. It was  just a rundown cabin.

 

"This is it?" Qrow asked, trying to make the question sound curious rather than disappointed. Based on Ozpin's chuckle he hadn't succeeded.

 

He bowed his head in agreement. "No, it's not much. You're welcome to take the airship back to Mistral. I'm well aware that this is hardly to anyone's taste, especially around the holidays."

 

And there it was. Qrow was no fool. He saw what he wasn’t supposed to see; how Ozpin kept his head bent low as he undid his seatbelt, his ever-present scarf covering the rest of his face. His voice might be bland and indifferent, but that body language was not. Again Qrow was left wondering if this was something real, or just another carefully calculated facade.

 

Unable to decide, he settled on practicality. 

 

"Not like I've got anywhere else to go, Oz." 

 

Qrow stood, slapping a hand down on Ozpin's shoulder as he did. He felt how he stiffened; then how he melted instead. Qrow ignored both in favor of kicking open the door and letting a blast of icy wind shear his face. _Fuck_ but it was cold. The kind of cold that made his teeth ache and froze all the saliva right in his mouth. Scythe slung over his back and pack under one arm, Qrow bent his head and trudged through the wind, trying not to get knocked over in the process. He was a hunter, dammit. Like he was going to get defeated by a dumb fucking breeze.

 

On the doorstep of the cabin Qrow turned and peered back at the airship. Ozpin was walking to meet him: head high now, cane in hand, no difficulty whatsoever. Bastard.

 

Stomping his feet Qrow waited impatiently for Ozpin to unlock the door. It didn't happen. Instead he simply pressed it open with a palm, striding in.

 

What the hell?

 

Weirder than just unlocked property—though who the hell was coming way out here?—was the utter disarray of the place itself. If Qrow had been hoping for a warm, cozy retreat from the snow, he was sorely disappointed. Still, four walls were better than nothing.  He scurried inside, shaking the water from his hair.

 

Once again Ozpin came after him. He stood in the doorway, shoulders curved, before finally crossing the threshold.

 

The door slammed shut behind him.

 

"Uh, it’s a nice place, Oz..."

 

Qrow was surprised by the chuckle. It didn't seem to match his hunched shoulders. "It's not, and I'm well aware of the fact. I apologize that these accommodations are so lacking. I fear that my reasons for bringing you here are rather... selfish. And they are quite to your disadvantage."

 

"It's cool," Qrow muttered, feeling awkward. Far as he knew, Oz was the one at a disadvantage with his semblance. Although... was there even anything to break or fuck up in this place?

 

To say the cabin was sparse would be a bit of an understatement. It was one room except for a closet sized door back in the right corner, which Qrow assumed lead to the bathroom. Otherwise the place was depressingly bare: a rickety bed to the left, in front of them a dark fireplace and a red couch, looking like it hadn’t just come from the previous century, but way past _that_ as well. Seriously. Qrow inched towards it a little, drawn more by the strange, decorative carving than how moth-eaten the remaining cushions were. As he moved, Qrow felt something shift and tear beneath his boots. Fucking hell, but apparently a bit of snow and two steps was too much for the rug too. 

 

The only other furniture was a bookcase pushed against the far wall.  A little taller than Qrow himself, it was stuffed both vertically and horizontally with literature, not a single nook or cranny left to waste. Ozpin noticed his gaze.

 

"A weakness of mine, as you well know." He shed his coat, folding it neatly and draping it over the foot of the bed. The action set off a huge cloud of dust. "I couldn't resist having books with me, even then..."

 

Ozpin's voice trailed off. Qrow had the distinct impression that Oz wasn't really talking to him anymore. His eyes stared somewhere past Qrow, the gaze so distant and melancholy that it left a sour taste in the back of his throat.

 

"I'll get wood," Qrow muttered and escaped from the cabin.

 

It wasn't nearly as long a task as he'd hoped though. The mountain was dotted with numerous trees, easy enough to cut down with his scythe and sword. Within minutes Qrow had a whole armful of wood that would last them the night and all he could do was trudge slowly back to this odd, decrepit place that Ozpin had brought him to. Qrow took his time, because suddenly the cold and the wind seemed far more inviting. 

 

Ozpin had done much by the time he got back. The couch and bed were now free of dust— _one_ bed, though Qrow didn't think he should comment on that just yet. The food they'd brought with them was neatly set out by the fire and Ozpin had chosen a book from his small library, slowly flipping through the pages. They looked so fragile that Qrow half expected them to disintegrate like the rug had.

 

He let Ozpin remember...whatever it was he was thinking back on. Only when there was a roaring fire to drown out some of the chill did he speak.

 

"Have you figured it out yet?"

 

Qrow sat on the couch and toed off his boots. He tucked his feet beneath his legs and fiddled with his necklace. He did everything except answer because yeah, he had an inkling.

 

He'd known since he saw that look in Ozpin's eyes.

 

Finally, Qrow sighed, leaning back. His gaze shifted over to Ozpin's still-hunched form. "What's your favorite fairy tale?" he mimicked and the smallest smile arrived and left. "That one never was my favorite, sorry. But I do recall something about the Wizard living alone in the mountains..."

 

"Where he was found by four women, each of which helped him remember how to live again." Ozpin sighed, carefully closing and setting the book on the floor. "Stories twist over time, but the foundation of mine is largely accurate. I had... sequestered myself here. Running away would not be an inaccurate description. It would also not be an exaggeration to say that the worst years of my life were spent in this room."

 

Ozpin stared at the walls of his former home and Qrow tried to remember how to breathe.

 

"I'm surprised it's still standing," he said and immediately winced at his own, inane comment. Ozpin regarded it seriously though.

 

"Not naturally, of course. Just a little hint of magic..." he raised his hand, wrist twisting. "I found I could not give the place up. No matter how painful the memories, the thought of its loss was too difficult to bear. I come here now and then. Every few years. I'm not sure I'll ever stop."

 

Qrow nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure he understood. "Why bring me though?"

 

"Qrow."

 

Somehow, his name on Ozpin's lips said more than the whole conversation. "My Qrow. Because I finally wanted to create some happy memories for this place and I could think of no one better suited for the task.”

 

Maybe it was the firelight softening Ozpin's face. More likely it was the declaration, the _sincere_ belief that he, of all people, was best suited to bring happiness. Qrow twitched when he suddenly felt his nails digging into his palm. He reached for Ozpin instead—then stopped. 

 

"Memories like what?" he whispered.

 

“I wouldn’t…” Ozpin hesitated, hands now knuckle-white as they clasped the edge of his shirt. “I would do nothing here that you might one day regret. _Anything_ , Qrow, is better than what my life was here before. Your presence is enough. Please know that, but something more…”

 

Idiot. Qrow knew he could never regret anything that might happen here…but even so, Oz’s words made him slow. Made him think.

 

Qrow started with just a hand on his shoulder.

 

He pressed there with a solid weight until Ozpin’s eyes slipped shut, his mouth trembling just the slightest bit. Scooting forward, Qrow carefully started to mold himself to Ozpin’s side until he was right there with him, breathing softly against his neck.

 

“Something like this?” 

 

“Yes,” Ozpin hissed, but then immediately went tense again. “I must warn you it’s…It’s been a long time.” Ozpin whispered it, his eyes still closed. “Nearly as old as this cabin, I’m ashamed to say. Qrow, I’m not—”

 

He didn’t seem to know how to go on, which was fine. Qrow had never put much stock in words anyway. Instead he gently grabbed hold of Ozpin’s chin and held it until he finally opened his eyes. The sheer _need_ there…

 

A bit of fear too and that, more than anything, reminded Qrow that this man was still human. 

 

Still Ozpin. 

 

He slipped his hand from shoulder to mouth, tracing the outline until he could hear Oz’s pulse racing through his skin; a heartbeat thudding just a foot from his own. So much power and control, yet a single touch had Remnant’s greatest warrior trembling head to toe. When Qrow leaned forward to press their lips together he made sure to do it as gently as he possibly good. Whatever tenderness was left in him, Ozpin had it.

 

A life flashing before your eyes. Time standing still. They’d always seemed like foolish concepts until Ozpin hesitantly kissed him back, just a small pressure that had Qrow’s mind going muddled like wine. It might have been a minute or an hour before Ozpin made the thinnest whine in the back of his throat, his hand skittering out to clasp hold of Qrow’s arm, trying to get _closer_ —

 

He was lost then. Qrow wasn’t sure he loved Ozpin—what did it even mean to love a man like him?—but whatever his feelings were poured out of him in full force. Qrow dragged him forward and kissed Ozpin until they were both panting and, gods, until Ozpin had found some of that familiar confidence, teeth and lips and tongue making Qrow weak in the knees. He was suddenly thankful for the ratty couch beneath them, the only thing keeping him from tumbling straight into the fire.

 

“You’re okay,” Qrow murmured, speaking it directly against Ozpin’s lips. He could still feel the tremors under the fervor.

 

Ozpin tilted his head back and gasped for air. Qrow smoothed hands down the front of his chest, fingers sneaking between each button and crevice.

 

“Never was fond of this suit,” he said. Ozpin just smiled up at the ceiling.

 

“I thought you were cold?”

 

“Lots of other ways to stay warm.”

 

Ozpin was just staring though, something still wary in his gaze. Qrow dropped his hands, but only to begin tugging his own sweater up overhead. He missed the moment Ozpin’s eyes darkened. Ha. Literally wool over his eyes. It was a joyous thing to come back to though and Qrow swallowed around a suddenly dry throat as he slipped off his pants too. He had nothing now but his black briefs and yeah, it was still cold as fuck in here. Qrow wanted nothing more in that moment than to crawl back into Ozpin’s arms.

 

He held his ground.

 

“Happier memories, yeah?”

 

And jeez, a gaze like that could cower a man—or boost his ego considerably. Qrow had paraded naked around Beacon’s halls and had more casual nights than he could count, but there was something about _Ozpin_ looking at him with his clothes off that had Qrow breaking eye contact first. He looked into the flames until he heard the distinct sound of rustling fabric.

 

Qrow’s eyes whipped back. Ozpin was methodically undoing the buttons of his jacket, the movements so slow, so _taunting_ that Qrow swallowed down a groan at the display.

 

He wasn’t surprised by the scaring all across Ozpin’s chest. What did surprise him was the slipped,

 

“You’re gorgeous.”

 

Ozpin stilled, head bent, but Qrow could plainly see the blush spreading from his neck to his cheeks to his ears. He took advantage of the lapse, running fingers over Ozpin’s bare chest and helping him to slip the shirt off completely. It felt like touching electricity and when Ozpin sighed into it Qrow boggled that _he_ was the one doing that.

 

Hell, don’t fix what wasn’t broken…

 

He bent forward, licking a strip of skin instead and Ozpin’s hiss was the damn best thing he’d ever heard.

 

“I’ve thought about this,” Qrow said, tracing his mouth down Ozpin’s abs, letting his hands trail along his hips, hindered only by the slacks there. “Didn’t ever think it would happen, but I did imagine…”

 

“I’ve wanted—” Ozpin began and cut the rest of it off with a moan. Qrow got it though.

 

The almost admission read like encouragement and Qrow pushed himself further down the couch, giving himself room to tongue at the front of Ozpin’s pants, feeling the growing hardness there. Ozpin’s hands suddenly appeared in his hair, spasming and gripping tight—holding on.

 

“Want you, Oz,” Qrow murmured. “Fucking hell you have no idea. That’s right, just breathe for me…”

 

It was good advice for him too. Qrow forced his trembling hands go to slow as he unbuttoned and pulled Ozpin’s slacks off, pressing kisses to each new, exposed bit of skin so there wouldn’t be any doubt, even for a moment. He nearly laughed when he saw the same bland, black slacks staring back at him.

 

“Couch or the bed?”

 

“Couch. Here. Qrow, right _here_.”

 

With the strength born of their profession Qrow pressed Ozpin so he was lying down, sealing their mouths together until they were both making quick, desperate noises. When Ozpin tried to palm him though Qrow shook his head through the kiss, trying to communicate that this was for _him_. Everything he’d ever done was for him. Didn’t Oz get that?

 

He pulled back just long enough to slip Ozpin’s underwear off too, drinking in the sight of him naked, splayed out before him like some kind of goddamn offering. But Qrow was the one who felt like he was on the chopping block now. A sacrifice to the god.

Something other than need took hold for a moment and he pressed a reverent kiss in the hollow of Ozpin’s neck.

 

“Relax,” Qrow begged and it was his reward that Ozpin melted beneath him.

 

There was so much to see, to explore and Qrow wanted to take his time with it, unsure if he’d ever be given this chance again. He trailed slow, wet kisses down Ozpin’s legs and then back up, nuzzling around his thighs until finally, delicately, tasting the tip of Ozpin’s cock. The gasp he received made years of service _so_ very worth it.

 

Qrow looked up, unable to hide his grin. “Like that?”

 

Ozpin had an arm flung across his eyes, the other digging into the couch’s stuffing. He said something in a language Qrow had never heard before, but he’d be dead the day he didn’t recognize someone cursing him out. 

 

“Heh, fantastic…”

 

Qrow teased a little more, pretended to pull back more than once, and it was only when Ozpin’s thin voice had grown positively desperate that he pressed a hand against either thigh, easing them apart. There wasn’t much room, but Qrow did what he could in the small space. He brought his tongue back to Ozpin’s cock, trailing along the length of it, just taking a little taste here and there that nevertheless had Ozpin bucking against his mouth. On anyone else Qrow would have made a quip about it having been a while.

 

But Ozpin wasn’t anyone else.

 

Instead he took pity, wrapping is mouth around Ozpin fully, his own cock jumping at the heat and the way Ozpin was straining now to keep his hips relatively still. Qrow sucked once, what was meant as just another tease, but Ozpin let out a cry so ragged that Qrow had to shut his eyes and push back his own desire; just for a minute more. Neither of them were young and neither of them had gotten much tenderness in their lives. Hell, neither of them had anything to prove either. So Qrow pulled back only long enough to tell Ozpin that it was okay, to relax, to breathe, before taking him in his mouth once more. Qrow steadied himself against Ozpin’s hip while his other hand slipped into his briefs. Shaking, he stroked himself each time he took Ozpin a little deeper.

 

“Qrow, Qrow, Qrow _please_ —”

 

He didn’t need to beg. Ozpin was already there, Qrow right there with him. He’d always regret that he didn’t catch the exact moment Ozpin came, but it was only because Qrow was busy shaking above him, face pressed to Ozpin’s stomach as his briefs soaked through. He heard Ozpin’s breathing though, felt the hands that scrambled at his skin. And Qrow wouldn’t forget that look of pure pleasure that crossed Ozpin’s face a second later. _Never_. That right there wasn’t anything predicted or planned.  Just bliss—if only for a moment.

 

“You’re okay,” Qrow whispered, unsure if that was the kind of reassurance that Ozpin needed, or maybe it was just for himself. What helped them more was when Ozpin reached a trembling hand out that Qrow took without hesitation. Somehow the small gesture felt more intimate than everything they’d just done.

 

Ozpin sighed, his fingers squeezing Qrow’s, his breathing still ragged. “A memory,” he said.

 

Yes, a memory. Of happiness? Qrow wasn’t sure.

 

It was whatever Ozpin needed it to be.

 


End file.
